


hireath

by c0rpz3huzb4nd



Series: smp character studies [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author is an Eret Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Blind Character, Blind Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Character Study, Eret Needs A Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Eret-centric (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), because they got blown up gd damn it tell me these fuckers didnt get hurt, me almost 5k words later: oh, me: i'm gonna write a couple hundred words for practice using all pronouns!, mentions of everyone else being injured in the lmanburg explosio, the eretbur isn't the focus of this but the tag needs more fics and they do kiss Several Times so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0rpz3huzb4nd/pseuds/c0rpz3huzb4nd
Summary: Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]). A Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person.
Relationships: Eret & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Wilbur Soot, Eret/Wilbur Soot
Series: smp character studies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149956
Comments: 6
Kudos: 138





	hireath

**Author's Note:**

> if irl!eret wont give c!eret a redemption arc ill do it myself g-d damn it

Eret’s always loved the rain. Even when she was younger, she’d spend hours at a time sneaking out of the house in the small server she grew up on, standing in the torrential downpour, letting it slick her hair flat to her head, soaking her to the bone. They caught a lot of colds that way as a kid, but it never stopped them, and they’d be right back out there the next time the clouds opened up. His mother always scolded him for it, but she never outright told him not to, so he just kept doing it. 

  
  


Later, when she left for the bigger servers, like Hypixel, she would always find the time to visit smaller servers, ones without weather locks or a set time, just for a change of pace. No matter how much he loved winning tournaments, the cheer of the crowd and the trophies that his mother insisted on keeping on a shelf in her little cabin, he still had a soft spot in his heart for the quieter things. 

  
  


They accidentally became a sort of cryptid, joining smaller servers that barely got any traffic, wandering around the shops for a little while, before retreating up to a secluded spot in the woods, or on a mountain, or wherever was far away enough that he couldn’t even see the lights of whatever town he’d spawned in, laying on his back in the grass and admiring the sky. Veteran server owners start greeting her by name, offering a smile and a wave when she logs in with a fresh stack of diamonds, long cloak wrapped around her shoulders. It’s nice, not having that degree of separation between the “common folk” that they’ve seen in so many of their friends and competitors in the arena.

  
  


Then, they receive an invite to an elusive private server.  _ The Dream SMP _ . Only a few people are allowed on, and even fewer are allowed to stay permanently, as more than just a guest. Eret accepts the invite, because of course she does, this is a once in a lifetime sort of opportunity. His mother is overjoyed for him, pressing a chipped diamond sword into his hands, one of the only things left from their childhood. They take it with a smile, promising to visit when they can. 

  
  


The server is still pretty small, but welcoming. There's other people they recognize from their time in the arenas, names that sat proudly alongside theirs in the leaderboards. Dream and his friends are nice enough, but Eret stays away from them for the most part, not wanting to encroach on their dynamic. For a while, she stays on her own, not really befriending anyone in particular, but trying to stay on at least neutral terms with all of them.

  
  


Then, she meets Wilbur. 

  
  


It's raining, and to say Eret's excited would be an understatement. After months spent on the weather-locked large servers before joining, and the infuriatingly pleasant weather on the SMP, it's been far too long since they've been able to lose themself in the drumming of raindrops on the ground, letting the sound drown out every other sense. 

  
  


He picks his way through the forest, towards a small clearing he's visited several times before, spending the night staring at the stars. Their hair is already soaked through, curls down hanging over their eyes, dripping onto their shirt, which is equally saturated. She huffs, brushing it out of her face, shaking their head like a dog to dislodge some of the water.

  
  


He makes it to the clearing, but stops short before emerging. There's someone else already there, back turned to him. They can see him holding a guitar, and his hands are moving across the strings, plucking at them quietly. Eret hesitates, listening to the soft music mixing with the rain beating on the leaves above them.

" _ I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready, _ "  _ Fuck _ , his voice is nice. Eret ignores it when her hair flops back down in front of her eyes again, watching the man quietly. " _ And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead _ ." 

  
  


He sighs, leaning his head back so he's looking upwards, letting the rain fall onto his face, seemingly uncaring of the fact that it's getting his guitar wet as well. His eyes are closed, so he can't see Eret. She hovers at the edge of the trees, not wanting to disturb the trance he seems to be in.

  
  


" _ The distance is futile, come on, don't be hasty _ ," His voice wavers slightly as he sings, and Eret shifts in place. Beneath his foot, a twig snaps, and the other man's eyes snap open. He spins, blinking in surprise at Eret. They raise a hand hesitantly in greeting.

  
  


"Hi," She pauses, then; "Your singing is good." The other man blinks at her, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. He's pretty cute, honestly, curly hair mostly hidden beneath a dark grey beanie. There's a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, presumably bought off-server, since they haven't seen any place on the SMP that sells them. The tip is still lit, red glow reflecting off the water on his face.

  
  


Slowly, she edges into the clearing, offering him a small smile. He returns it, and they walk over, taking a seat a few feet away. He sighs softly, letting himself flop backwards, hair spreading behind his head like a halo. They close their eyes, humming lightly to themselves as the rain patters against their skin, the familiar sensation calming. 

  
  


"You're… Eret, right? I've seen you around the server before, but I don't think we've talked." She cracks open an eyelid, turning to look at him. The other man is watching him curiously. His eyes are two different colors, Eret notes to himself. One is a warm cinnamon, almost red, the other is a grass green, peeking out at them from soaking wet curls falling to obscure the other man's eyes. They nod, lacing their fingers behind their head.

  
  


"Mm, that's me. Nice to meet you." The brunette smiles. softly at him, pulling his guitar closer to himself. "I'm Wilbur Minec-" He cuts himself off, frowning slightly, before continuing. "I'm Wilbur. What're you doing out here?" Eret shrugs, blinking and dislodging the water droplets accumulating on their eyelashes. 

  
  


"'S nice out here. I enjoy the peace and quiet, have since I was a kid." Wilbur hums thoughtfully. "Why're  _ you  _ out here? Doesn't seem like the first place I'd pick to hang out and play." That earns them another hum. As if he'd just remembered it was there, Wilbur pulls his guitar closer to himself, starting to quietly play again, a soft melody, though not one she recognizes from anywhere. Eret wonders if he wrote it himself.

"I like it out here too. It's a place to get away from the chaos of everything going on, y'know?" She nods, closing her eyes and letting the soft ambience of the forest and rain mix with Wilbur's playing, losing herself in it. "I get that. It's nice being around other people, but sometimes you just want to let yourself relax."

  
  


"Exactly," Wilbur pauses for a second, seemingly figuring out how to play a chord, before resuming. "It's- you've seen L'Manburg, I'm sure. It's a wonderful country, I wouldn't trade it for the world, but sometimes it's nice to not be a leader, or a general, or a father; to just be myself." Eret nods emphatically, but doesn't offer any input. For a long moment, there's a comfortable silence between them, before Wilbur starts quietly singing again.

  
  


Eret doesn't listen too hard to the lyrics, though he can tell they're different from what Wilbur had been singing when he'd first gotten there. Instead, they just let themself get lost in the sound.

  
  


She's not sure when she falls asleep, but when Eret wakes up, she's alone in the clearing, and there's a piece of paper laying next to her. 

  
  


_ L'Manburg's gates are open, if you want. I'd like to get to know you more :) _

_ -wilbur _

  
  


Eret thinks over it for a long time, and they're still hesitant when they stride up to the van, but the wide grin on Wilbur's face when he opens the door is enough to convince them it was the right choice.

  
  


L'Manburg is small, but Eret's pretty sure he loves it already. It's inhabitants are welcoming, clapping him on the back and offering to show him around. Niki even bakes him a loaf of bread, which no one's done for him in years. (Niki finds her staring down at the small loaf, blinking back tears, and she has to rapidly explain that Niki did nothing wrong, and that  _ they're good tears, don't worry _ .)

  
  


Him and Wilbur spend more time together, after that. The clearing they initially met in becomes their meeting spot, where they go to talk, or to let Wilbur show off his newest song, or to simply lay on the grass together.

  
  


Eret finds they can't stop stealing looks at Wilbur. The way he chews his lip when he's thinking about something, the way his mismatched eyes light up at her praise. The way he looks with his hair mussed, doubling over with laughter at some stupid joke they'd told. They wonder if he feels as infatuated with them as they do him.

  
  


Because the universe is a poetic bastard, it's raining again when they get their answer. Wilbur doesn't have his guitar with him, it's just the two of them together in their usual clearing. They're laughing at some story Wilbur had been telling, and they straighten up, they're face to face, barely five inches between them. He sobers quickly, blinking at Wilbur slowly. The other man's eyes are hooded as he studies their face, hand drifting up to cup their cheek as he leans in, and they do the same.

  
  


Wilbur tastes like chocolate and cigarettes, and Eret doesn't think she wants to taste anything else again, because they'd be perfectly happy to die like this, with Wilbur licking into her mouth, one hand tangled in her hair, the other fumbling to unbutton their dress shirt. 

  
  


Wilbur pushes him down onto the ground, and all Eret can think is  _ Wilbur Wilbur Wilbur Wilbur _ . Every sensation is overwhelming, the other man's skin almost unbearably hot against theirs, contrasting the cool slick of the rain. His mouth is everywhere, on their neck, on their chest, trailing kisses down their stomach, meeting their eyes from where he hovers, breath ghosting across their skin. She nods once, and then every sensation and thought she has narrows down to Wilbur's mouth on her, Wilbur's hand reaching up to tangle their fingers together, Wilbur tracing tiny circles on her inner thigh. 

  
  


Later, after Eret has flipped them over, pressing open mouthed kisses to the other man's neck as they return the favor, the two of them lay tangled beneath his cloak, fur lining still warm and dry despite the rain coming down. Wilbur tucks his head under their chin, and they hum softly, gently running a hand through his hair. He arches into the touch like a cat, and they smile as he drifts off. The ground beneath them is hard, digging into their shoulder blades, but they wouldn't give this for the world.

  
  


Eret would do anything for L'Manburg and it's people. So, when Dream corners him and tells him that, if he doesn't help him win the war, he'll kill them all  _ permanently _ ? What choice does he have, other than to agree? They do their best to insist that their friend's deaths are as quick and painless as possible, and Dream and his friends at least deliver on that promise, but it doesn't change the way that Wilbur's eyes bore into her soul as he's killed, damning her to a fate worse than hell.

  
  


Dream tries to congratulate him for a job well done, goes as far as to laugh and clap him on the back. She shrugs him off, throwing him a cold look and letting enough of the power she's spent years learning to control free that the air stinks of ozone, and electricity crackles along her fingertips. Fortunately for him, Dream knows how to leave well enough alone, and steps back, letting them leave.

  
  


Eret makes it as far as her mother's front doorstep before she crumbles. His mother opens the door, cooing gently as she ushers him inside, sitting him down on the worn couch that's been there since he was a kid.

  
  


"I fucked up, ma," They whisper into her side, feeling impossibly small. "I fucked up real bad, and I don't think I can fix it." Their mother strokes their hair, pressing a gentle kiss to their forehead as they sob into her side, unable to get a full word out through his hiccups, breath shaking. 

  
  


His mother doesn't press the subject, pressing a still-warm bowl of soup into his hands, and he takes it with a sniffle, offering her a watery smile. 

  
  


Eret doesn't stay long. She finishes her dinner, curling in on herself on the couch, but she's gone before her mother wakes again, taking her belongings from where they sit by the door, slipping out into the early morning light.

  
  


They log back into Hypixel, and launch themselves into the competitions with more vigor than they have in years. They learn to relish both the feel of their sword slicing through flesh, and the sensation of someone else's blade cutting into them. Both are better than the aching guilt that comes when they're alone.

  
  


They run into Technoblade, once. They're at an afterparty for a tournament, halfheartedly celebrating with the rest of the contestants, when a heavy hand comes to rest on their shoulder, pulling him away from the crowd with no chance of shrugging it off. She lets it happen, stumbling slightly as she's tugged into a deserted corner. He spins, eyes widening when he comes face to face with Techno, red eyes boring into his. Oh, fuck.

  
  


"Techno! H-Hey, man. It's been a while." They offer him a shaky grin, hand inching towards the knife at their side, but Techno pins him in place with a glare, and they let it fall to their side. He studies them quietly, the bags under their eyes, the lack of light they know lies behind their expression. The piglin hybrid is silent for a long moment, before he sighs.

  
  


"You look like shit." His blunt tone startles a laugh out of her, and she runs a hand through her hair. The sound is desperate, and a little broken, and Techno just looks confused. 

  
  


"I look like shit? I look like _shit_ , Techno?" They scoff. "You try being forced to betray the first real family you've had in years, and see how _you_ feel." The other man's brows furrow slightly, and Eret snorts. 

  
  


"Oh, you don't know? I was expecting Dream to be bragging about it as soon as I left," He grabs the rubber band from around his wrist, pulling his messy hair into a low ponytail. Absently, she thinks that she should cut it again, it's grown long in recent months. Techno frowns, shaking his head in confusion.

  
  


"Oh, boy. So, what story did Dream feed you, then? What- that I was so power-hungry I betrayed L'Manburg just to become king? That I never cared about them in the first place?" From Techno's expression, they can gather that that's  _ exactly  _ what everyone thinks. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back, though Techno still has him boxed into a corner, mostly blocking his view of the rest of the room. 

  
  


"Alright. Well, let's get one thing fucking straight. Dream held a knife to my damn throat and told me if I didn't work with him, he'd kill everyone. Permanently." Techno sucks in a soft breath. Most larger servers have systems in place to prevent people from losing a life during PvP, or even by accident. It's well known that once someone loses all three of their lives, they die for real. No respawning, no coming back. 

  
  


"What was I supposed to do?" Techno shakes his head at her.

  
  


"Couldn't you have told anyone? Wilbur's the smartest man I know, he could've helped you. Dream's not- him and his friends aren't stronger than everyone who was in L'Manburg." Eret rolls her eyes, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose when they threaten to slip down. 

  
  


"Dream's different, man. Something changed in him. He's stronger, and more- I don't fucking know, more  _ apathetic _ ? I've beat him in duels before, we were something close to  _ friends _ , but he's not himself. If I tried to fight him now, even with my-" They wave a hand vaguely in the air, tiny arcs of electricity dancing along their fingers. The space between the two of them grows colder, enough that Techno's breath billows in a cloud in front of him. His hand drops, and the air snaps back to normal, the sudden change of temperature jarring. " _ Abilities _ , he could overpower me. I loved- I  _ love _ Wilbur, and Niki, and Fundy, and everyone else there. It was worth hurting them to make sure they lived to see another day." He shoulders past Techno, who looks startled.

  
  


"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go get drunk like I do every fucking night, and do my best not to off myself." Techno doesn't say anything, watching them leave. Eret doesn't stay longer at the party than they need to, swiping a bottle of some kind of alcohol, taking it back to her temporary apartment in a city server, letting herself stop thinking for the night. 

  
  


It's months before they return to the SMP. One of the hearts on their wrist is jet black, contrasting the blood red of the other two. There's a long scar curving across their neck, and stories circulating in the news of a top fighter losing a life in an illegal fighting ring. It had been one of her more reckless decisions, but the allure of death had been enough to convince her to join in on the fights.

  
  


L'Manburg is a full country when they come back, flourishing under Wilbur's rule. He's proud of the other man, despite everything that happened between them. Dream still steers clear of her, wary of the power simmering in her veins, and for good reason. Wilbur barely even spares them a look, sneering whenever they come close. The rest of L'Manburg is the same, and they won't pretend it doesn't hurt, no matter if they deserve it or not. 

  
  


Dream makes him king, and takes the title away, and he couldn't care either way. There's an election, and Eret has to resist the urge to chase after Wilbur and Tommy as they're driven out, to spread his cloak so wide it shields them from anything that could ever want to hurt them. Technoblade joining the server is a break in the monotony, a familiar name she recognizes from years on competitive servers, always just a few slots above her own. He's also Wilbur's brother, which means he automatically dislikes her, so there's no point in even trying to say hi. 

  
  


Schlatt's presidency is boring, in his opinion. He secretly thinks Wilbur could've done a better job, but he keeps his thoughts to himself, wanting to stay in Schlatt's good graces. The ram-hybrid is kind, at least in the beginning. He seems to be genuinely in love with Quackity, and they're happy for the two of them. 

  
  


Then, Schlatt starts to go downhill. He drinks more, and becomes paranoid and angry. 

  
  


Eret offers Quackity a place to stay, one. They don't out right point out the shadow of a bruise on his cheek, but they still give it a pointed look. Quackity just shakes his head, shrugging off Eret's hand and stalking away, wings folded tightly behind himself. Eret lets him walk away.

  
  


When Tubbo dies on stage, Eret cries for the first time in a long time. The teen meets their eyes from his cage on the podium, and his face crumples, because there are tears streaming down their cheeks as they stop themselves from doing anything. 

  
  


_ I'm sorry _ , they mouth at him, and he shakes his head imperceptibly.  _ I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Tubbo. _

  
  


A firework goes off, and he turns his head to the side. No one pays any mind to him, but he finds a single loaf of bread on his doorstep the next day, still warm from the oven. It's just as good as they remember Niki's baking being, and the influx of memories it brings causes tears to spring to their eyes again. 

  
  


She fights Pogtopia, and Schlatt dies, and Tubbo becomes president, and all Eret can think about is the fact that  _ maybe this is her chance to make things right _ . They stare up at Tubbo on the podium, studying his nervous expression. The teen shifts hesitantly, and they meet his eyes from behind their glasses. She gives him an encouraging thumbs up. Tubbo looks surprised, but he smiles at her slightly, sucking in a steadying breath before beginning to speak. Eret's so focused on watching him up on the stage, he doesn't notice Wilbur slip away from the small crowd, disappearing before anyone can stop him. 

  
  


By the time they realize, it's too late. One second, they're turning around, frowning at the lack of Wilbur's presence, the next a detonation is going off right at their feet, and everything goes white. 

  
  


He's told he's lucky to have only lost his sight. Tommy lost most of his hearing in the explosion, Purpled lost an arm, Quackity's wings were shot full of holes from debris. Even Sapnap is hurt, back covered in burns from diving to shield Karl from the blast. She doesn't know who tells her this, but she's pretty sure the shock of electricity she delivers upon hearing that will keep them away for a little bit.

No one bothers to fill him in on what happened to L'Manburg. Philza Minecraft has apparently joined the server, and Eret hopes Wilbur's father can talk him down.

  
  


It isn't until weeks later, when they run into Philza on a walk around town, accompanied by Tubbo, that they learn what actually became of the fallen president.

  
  


It's still hard to maneuver L'Manburg. Before it had blown up, Eret knew the place like the back of her hand, but now the city is full of craters and holes, and she can barely walk ten paces without hitting a pit in the ground. Their vision is completely gone, everything obscured by blackness. Their usual sunglasses have been replaced with a blindfold. 

  
  


With their vision gone, it's like every other sense has been cranked up to eleven. It's a constant sensory overload, every sensation and sound grating on their mind. 

  
  


Eret almost runs into Philza before a soft wing blocks her path. She stumbles, yelping in surprise before a hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her back upright. A sharp noise escapes his throat, and the other man quickly releases him.

  
  


"It's just me, you're alright." Eret relaxes, reaching out weakly for Phil's hand. The winged man must realize what they're going for, because he obliges, grabbing Eret's hand gently. They sigh softly, less on edge now that they have an exact idea of where Phil is. Nearby, they can hear Tommy calling out for Tubbo. She turns her head in Tubbo's general direction, nodding at him. 

"Go, hang out with him. I'll find my way back." Tubbo mumbles a quick  _ thank you _ , then his footsteps recede into the distance, thumping away on the wooden path. Phil hums, softly tugging at their hand.

  
  


"Walk with me." Eret allows himself to be pulled along, grateful for Phil's comforting presence. There's a comfortable silence between them, before Eret speaks. 

  
  


"How's Wilbur doing? I haven't heard from him since-" They wave their free hand awkwardly in the air. "-y'know." Phil sucks in a breath through his teeth, grip tightening momentarily around their wrist. She frowns at the response, stopping in place. Phil stops as well, and she tilts her head up, hoping she's looking him in the face.

  
  


"Phil, Wilbur made it, right?" No response. " _ Right? _ " Still no response, then;

  
  


"He… he asked me to kill him. I-I'd rather it be at my hands, then at the hands of someone who hated him." Eret is silent for a long moment. Slowly, they let go of Phil's hand, letting themself sink to their knees on the ground. Phil sinks down with them, and they feel his wings unfold on either side of them, fluffy feathers brushing against their shoulders.

  
  


"Eret?" His voice is quiet, and Eret shakes his head, hair flopping down in front of his face.

  
  


"I ah- I never got to tell him I was sorry. We barely talked after everything, so I never had a chance to apologize." He murmurs, and Phil looses a long sigh. Large, soft wings wrap around her, Phil's hand moving to the small of her back. They stay like that for a long time, until the hard wood of the Prime Path starts to dig into Eret's knees, and they're forced to shift, standing up. 

  
  


They want nothing more than to disappear into their room, and hide from the world, but they're stuck on this fucking path, weakness bared wide open for anyone to see. They go to turn in the direction of their home, but realize they don't know where it is. They curse under their breath, which has started to speed up.

  
  


Phil places a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her in the opposite direction from where they'd been facing. Eret hates feeling like an invalid, like he can't take care of himself, but he supposes it's true, since he can't even find his way around his own home most of the time. 

  
  


Later, Phil presses something into their hands. The handle is rubber and plastic, obviously bought off-server, and it takes them a moment to realize what it is. When they do, a grin splits their face. It's a walking stick, one they've seen others using in other servers. It's made to help people who can't see, allowing them to navigate their surroundings without someone else's help. 

  
  


It takes her a little while to get used to it, but it's  _ miles  _ better than blindly fumbling around her surroundings. She spends the first few days figuring out how to navigate with it, accidentally hitting several people in the ankles in the process. They'll be honest, sometimes they do it on purpose, but Tommy can't attack them, they're  _ blind _ . 

  
  


* * *

  
  


It's raining again. Eret sits on his front step, worn blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Her cane sits next to her, the handle resting on her thigh so she can keep track of it. They're mostly underneath the overhang, but if they reach their hand out, they can feel the cool drops pattering against their skin. 

  
  


Others have passed by as they sit there, offering them a quick hello, and they wave back with a soft smile. For a while, they're alone, listening to the rain drumming on the wooden path.

  
  


Then, there's hurried footsteps coming towards him. There's a odd, echoing quality to them, and Eret cocks his head, trying to place their exact location. The footsteps come closer, then pound to a stop under the overhang. She cocks her head, turning it towards the other person. She hears them exhale softly, sitting down next to her. 

  
  


"Hey," He greets hesitantly, trying to place the unfamiliar presence.

  
  


"Hello!" Eret freezes, hand flying to the handle of their cane, gripping it tightly to still the tremor that runs through them. This isn't Wilbur. They  _ know  _ it's know Wilbur, they know it's not the Wilbur they remember, but sounds  _ so  _ similar.

  
  


Wilbur is quiet for a moment, before speaking again. "What are you doing out in the rain?" Eret draws in a shaky breath, pulling their blanket tighter around their shoulders.

  
  


"Do you…" She pauses. "You don't remember?" Wilbur doesn't respond for a long second, then gasps. He shakes her shoulder excitedly, and she startles at the sudden touch, but doesn't flinch away.

  
  


"I do!" The ghost sounds excited, and Eret's lips quirk up into a smile. "I don't- it's a bit fuzzy, but I do remember that!" He jostles Eret's shoulder again, scooting closer to them on the steps. 

  
  


Carefully, he reaches out, feeling for Wilbur's hand to figure out exactly where he is. She brushes against his arm, and gently latches her fingers around his wrist to ground herself. Wilbur goes deathly silent (pun not intended), the air around him dropping in temperature drastically.

  
  


"You can touch me…" Wilbur whispers, other hand moving to land on top of theirs. His voice is reverent, shock laced through his tone. Eret nods, cocking his head.

  
  


"Can the others not?" Wilbur makes a soft noise of dissent, and Eret hums, considering his options. Wilbur's been a ghost for months now, and this is the first time they've ever come into contact with him.

  
  


"...Would you like a hug, Wilbur? You sound like you could use one." She doesn't get a verbal response, but the ghost flings himself into her arms. She rocks back a little with the force of his embrace, laughing softly. His hair tickles Eret's lip, and he has to twist himself around a bit in order to hug Wilbur properly, but the stutter in the ghost's breath is enough to convince them that they're not letting go of him any time soon.

  
  


It's a bit late, but maybe they still have a chance to make up for everything they've done, if Wilbur will let them.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is a little rushed but if i didnt wrap it up i was gonna write another 5k words lmao
> 
> on the roster:  
> chapter 5 of angry heart  
> chapter 2 of living it right  
> smp!karl character study


End file.
